The oven’s slow, with hours to wait on hickory and smoke,
The baser cuts of meat, and time. More time.
Don’t rush it. Add another log of walnut, or of oak.
Now wait, have faith. The meat will be sublime.

The baser cuts of meat, and time. More time.
This oven, like a trial by fire, makes tender what was tough.
Now wait, have faith. The meat will be sublime,
And only one who knows its flesh knows when it’s had enough.

This oven, like a trial by fire, makes tender what was tough.
And you who suffer trials—do you resist?
Yes, only One who knows your soul knows when you’ve had enough.
He knows your heart by fire has been kissed.

And you who suffer trials—do you resist?
Submit—He is transforming you, your sinew, blood, and bone.
He knows your heart by fire has been kissed;
Rejected, now acceptable, with piquant flavors known.

Submit. He is transforming you, your sinew, blood, and bone.
This brisket, too, roasting in coals of oak—
Rejected, now acceptable, with piquant flavors known
Because it spent long hours in sacred smoke.